


this is just the beginning (I'm going to love you for a lifetime)

by orphan_account



Series: Choices [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll always pick you. I'll always come for you. Always."</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is just the beginning (I'm going to love you for a lifetime)

**Part One**.  _So Many Chances and Only One Choice_

Oliver couldn't stop seeing it replay in his head.

Felicity kneeling on the ground, her hands bound at her back, rain pouring down on her shaking, hunched figure. Slade stood at her back, gun in hand, demanding that Oliver make a choice, the gun swiveling abruptly to Laurel, who was scared, yes, but so very confused. She didn't understand why she was there, what was happening or what part she played. Felicity, on the other hand, seemed to understand most of it, having pieced much of it together from what he'd told her about Shado and the situation they found themselves in. She knew, she understood, and she came to a decision of her own.

Her words were stuck on an endless loop in his brain.

_"Oliver… It's okay…"_

_"I don't blame you. I'll never blame you."_

_"I don't regret any of it."_

She was ready to die. She was ready to forgive him for a choice she thought he'd already made.

It always came down to choices. Some of them, he hadn't even known he was making at the time. He chose her, over and over again. He chose her when he needed help with a bullet-riddled laptop, of everyone in QC's IT department. He chose her when he'd been shot by his mother, trusting her completely as he crawled into her car. He chose her when Helena used her to find his dad; it was time to put her down for good. He chose her to be his trusted ally at QC, even if she was extremely overqualified for the job. He chose her, her life and her happiness, when he told her couldn't be with anyone he cared for; he knew he'd only end up hurting her or getting her killed. He chose her when Mathis was getting away, even when a part of his brain told him every second wasted meant the mark was closer to escaping. He chose her when the Count held her hostage, over his mother and his promise to Tommy.

And finally, a few hours ago, with two women in front of him that he loved, one built up of his history, of 'Ollie', the man he used to be, and the other representing his future, a faithful partner, crafting together the fractured pieces of him one at a time. And he hated himself, he did, but he already made a choice long before that moment, and he wouldn't change it now. Time was ticking down and the cavalry wasn't arriving. Felicity was saying goodbye, but he wasn't willing to hear it. Slade told him to choose and he stalled, desperate not to have to say it aloud, to add one more name to the already too long list of casualties racked up against him. He looked at Felicity, and he knew he'd always choose her.

When the gun went off, he thought his heart stopped. Slade had been aiming at her, but it wasn't him who pulled the trigger. Sara finally made her triumphant entrance. Slade wasn't dead, just wounded, but it gave Oliver enough time to sweep Felicity out of the way, telling her to get out of sight, this was his fight and he couldn't be distracted. She listened, and when Slade finally fell, Oliver made sure it was for good this time.

Everything after that was a blur. Laurel was cradling a dying Sara as she bled out in her arms. He and Digg managed to get Slade's body off the roof before Sara's father and the whole of the SCPD descended on them. And then they were in the foundry. He could hear their voices as they moved about. Digg tended to his wounds before he clocked out for the night, eager to return to the comfort of Lyla. Oliver was in a haze, staring at the floor, playing it over in his head, going through every possible outcome that could've happened. Someone always died. Slade, Laurel, Sara, Digg, Felicity. There was always going to be a casualty, he just wished it were different. He wished he could have changed Slade's mind. He wished he could've stopped him before he sunk Sara's own bo staff through her stomach. He wished he'd walked Felicity up to her apartment instead of assuming she'd get there, leaving an easy open for Slade's men to slip in and take her.

There were so many what if's, so many different paths his life could have taken. What if he'd never brought her the laptop? What if he hadn't climbed into her car that fateful night his mother shot him? What if he didn't bring her onto their team? What if he'd encouraged her to go back to her old life as soon as Walter was found? What if he never left the island, or if he stayed there after his second, much shorter stay? What if he never fell in love with her? Never let himself get close. Let her break down those walls with her rambling and her encouragement, her hugs and her stubborn trust and belief in him.

"Oliver."

She was kneeling in front of him, still wearing the wet, dirty clothes of before, when she'd been on the roof.

His breath left him in a rush as he stared at the dried mud on her knees.

There were a lot of what ifs, but none of them were going to change what his life currently was. He did go to her, he did trust her, he did lean on her.

He did love her.

He tipped his head back, letting it rest against the wall, and stared at her with dark, sorrowful eyes.

"This is not your fault," she whispered.

He closed his eyes.

"Oliver, what Slade did tonight, that was his  _choice_ … He chose to hold onto that hate, he chose to let it consume him, and he chose to aim it at you… He can blame you, but tonight only proves that he isn't any better than the man he  _thinks_ you are. And even there, he's  _wrong_." She reached for him, her hand settling over his heart. "He doesn't know you.  _I_ know you. Do you hear me?"

He finally met her steady gaze.

"That man tried to force you to make an impossible choice and he had no right." She shook her head, blinking as tears built up in her eyes. "But you have to know that whatever happened, I never would have blamed you for it." Her fingers curled, gripping the leather of his jacket. "I know you would've done everything you could. I know you would've done your best."

" _Felicity_ …" His brow furrowed as he covered her hand, squeezing it tightly. "There was  _no_  choice." He pulled her forward, cupping her cheek.

She let out a shaky breath, leaning into his palm.

He blinked back the sheen of tears in his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. "I'll always pick you. I'll always come for you." His fingers buried in her hair at the nape of her neck, gripping it tight. " _Always_."

It felt right, kissing her. Lips slanting together, panting from the emotional declaration and the heavy weight on his heart. He could feel her go still at first, surprised, but then she melted against him. Her hands balled up his jacket tightly as she pressed forward, meeting his lips, teeth and tongue nipping and soothing in equal measure. His grip loosened on her hair and his hand slid down her back, drawing her in until her front was draped over his. She was so small compared to him, so light on top of him, and it only reminded him of how fragile she was. How close he'd come to losing her.

All that time he spent convincing himself it was better not to get close, to not open that door, and it was wasted. How much safer could she be if she was still in this life, still a target? The only thing he was doing was denying them both what they wanted, what they  _deserved_. After everything they went through, everything they would have to face, shouldn't they have some happiness? Some relief?

The frenzied passion of their kiss slowly died down to lazy, lingering lips passing over each other. His fingers danced down her cheek, stroking lightly.

When she opened her eyes to look up at him, he breathed the words out, "I love you."

Her eyes widened.

"I don't want to wait for a time when our lives will be safer. They probably never will be." He shook his head. "But I almost lost you. For a second, I thought I had, and I don't ever want to feel like that again…" His jaw tightened. "I  _love_  you, Felicity."

Her expression softened and she reached up, scrubbing her fingers through the scruff of his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Brow furrowed, he took up her hand and raised her wrist to his lips, kissing her pulse.

Slipping her arm around his neck, she hugged him to her, his face buried in her shoulder. She scratched fingers lightly down his hair and kissed his neck once, twice, three times. "I love you, too," she said. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

He sighed, his arms banding around her tightly, hugging her so close, he worried he might be hurting her. But she didn't complain, she let him, running her hand down the back of his neck and across his shoulder, over and over, soothingly, until every tensed muscle in his body loosened up. They stayed like that for a long time, taking and offering comfort.

It was ironic, he would think later, that Slade's plan to destroy him, to take the person he loved from him, resulted in the opposite. Oliver's life finally moved forward, he stopped hiding from his fear, from his feelings, and he gained the love he'd been so hesitant to fully embrace.

Slade fought to live solely to destroy him, and his actions, his death, was the catalyst for Oliver finally finding his peace.


End file.
